“A just judge, an entirely just judge,” said So Too, apparently half overcome with sleep, “but a judge to be avoided; too much given to asking questions; never weary of turning round and round like an auger, until he strikes bottom; a good judge for a hard and knotty cause—slow, but sure, eating away falsehood bit by bit; not a good judge for a plain case.”
“Lung Tung?” I questioned, half in despair, glancing at number five.
“A just judge, an undoubtedly just judge,” So Too gave answer, in the same sleepy tone, “but a dangerous judge; too fond of hearing himself talk; too liable to use up the criminal’s time and then condemn him to death for not having defended himself within the hour allotted to him!”
Here my heart sank within me; but I drew myself together. There was still one name left. I glanced at it despairingly. “Keen Chop?” I murmured.
“A just judge, a perfectly just judge;” remarked So Too with a slight increase of animation, “a flower, a pearl of a judge; eats well, drinks well, digests well; fond of the good things of life, a great lover of beautiful vases and statues and screens and embroideries—always willing to hear both sides and—”
Here So Too came to a halt and fell into such a sound slumber that he snored loudly. I waited patiently for him to finish his nap. He resumed exactly at the point where he had left off.
“Very anxious to build a larger and finer house and to fill it with rich and rare ornaments.”
Again So Too dropped off. Not to be outdone by him in apparent indifference at the matters under discussion, I likewise gave way to a feeling of drowsiness and was soon fast asleep.
How long we slept I know not; but, when we awoke my mind was perfectly clear on one point. I turned to So Too and said:
“I am resolved! Keen Chop is a just judge! Let him decide Bulger’s fate!”